


Something Hot

by FreshBrains



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Community: smallfandomfest, First Meetings, Flirting, M/M, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-02
Updated: 2015-01-02
Packaged: 2018-03-04 21:32:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3090932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreshBrains/pseuds/FreshBrains
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bonnie, their shift supervisor, threw him a withered glare.  “Stop giving cute guys free drinks.  We’re not here to get you laid.” She pinned her nametag onto her apron, signaling the start of her shift.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Hot

**Author's Note:**

> For the Small Fandoms Fest 16 prompt: _How To Get Away With Murder (TV), Connor/Oliver, Coffee Shop AU, Oliver orders tea._

“You should just go for it,” Laurel said, topping off a macchiato with the perfect amount of foam.  She treated every order like it was a work of art.

Connor snorted, ignoring the displeased look from the customer next in line.  He was an older guy with a briefcase, chatting on his cell—the sort of customer they purposely gave lukewarm drinks.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Make me an Americano, I’m really in a bind,” the man said, not breaking away from his cell.  Connor glanced at Laurel to share a chagrined look with her, but she was too kind to be rude.  Connor wished Michaela was there.

“You know what I mean,” Laurel said with a gentle smile, nodding towards the quiet guy sitting in a booth across the shop.  “You’re so obvious.”  The guy had been in the shop every day for the past five days, and Laurel knew Connor too well to let go of the way Connor glanced towards his table every few minutes.

“Can you hurry this up?” The cranky customer leaned against the pick-up counter, phone pressed against his neck only long enough for him to snap at Laurel.

“Can you settle your ass down?” Connor snapped back, smiling like a choirboy as he dumped the hot water messily over the man’s espresso.

The man’s face turned bright red.  “I’d like to speak with your manager, young man.”

“Annalise,” Connor called, and Annalise stuck her head out from the back room where she was putting together the following week’s order.

“It’s my name on the sign, sir, and I know who I hire.  Whatever he said to you, you deserved it,” Annalise called back, addressing the man without looking up from her paperwork.  “Connor, tone it down a bit, will you?”

Laurel shook her head, hiding a smile.  “Have a nice day,” she said weakly as the man stormed out without paying for his drink.  “Here’s your opportunity.  No line, you’re on clean-up soon.  Go talk to him.”

“Bossy,” Connor muttered, grabbing a bottle of cleaning fluid.  He ignored Laurel’s laughter as he made his way nonchalantly towards the back of the coffee shop next to the creamer and sweetener stand.  As he busied himself cleaning the already-spotless counter, he kept an eye on the guy sitting at the back booth.  He was cute—not hot, but cute in a shy-guy sort of way—with glasses, his brow furrowed in concentration as he typed furiously on his laptop.  Unlike the dozens of other techies who frequented the shop, he didn’t look unfriendly or absorbed in his work.  The code flashing across the screen almost seemed to _relax_ him.

Laurel cleared her throat from across the room, low and irritating above the hum of coffee-shop elevator music.  Connor gave her the finger and slowly approached the man’s table, bottle of cleaner still tucked under his arm.

“Can I take this out of your way?” He gestured to the man’s empty cup, the tea-bag string dangling against the paper sleeve, but took the opportunity to give him a closer once-over.  He was older than Connor by at least five years, a nice smile, cute ears.  His glasses made him look smart but not like a hipster.  Clothes non-descript—jeans, a blue and grey sweater, Nikes.

He looked like the kind of guy Connor could take home to Mama and then blow under the dinner table.

The guy glanced up, glasses sliding down his nose a little, and smiled.  “Sure, thanks.  Hey, what brand of tea is this?  It’s pretty good.”

Connor picked up the cup and leaned in, letting the scent waft up.  He wanted to taste, swipe his tongue against the paper rim, but he reminded himself that they were in a coffee shop, not a bar, he was working, and _germs_.  “This is our new jasmine tea.  Much more fragrant than our old supplier.”

The guy nodded, headphones looped around his neck.  He seemed relaxed and ambitious at the same time—he had to be going places with the high-tech skills, but he looked like he was just where he wanted to be.  He smiled up at Connor.  “It’s headier.  The taste lingers.”  Connor had half a second of _whoa, is he flirting back?_ before the guy shook his head and laughed, a flush rising to the apples of his cheeks.  “I mean, yeah.  It’s great, thanks.”

Connor nodded, not sure where they were at in their short conversation.  “Will you be here for a while longer?”

The guy glanced at his watch, then his laptop.  “Yeah, I have a big project I wanted to finish.  You aren’t closing soon, are you?”

“No, we’re twenty-four hours.  Since you’ll be here, I’ll get you another cup of jasmine tea on the house.”  Connor leaned against the guy’s chair, hip cocked, looking as appealing as he possibly could wearing his bland uniform.

The guy looked like he was about to decline, but instead, he let his eyes drag down Connor’s dark hair to his stubble to his trim waist.  “That would great.  Thanks so much…” he lingered on Connor’s nametag.  “Connor.”

“You’re welcome…” Connor hesitated, raising an eyebrow.

“Oliver,” the guy supplied, a shy smile forming on his lips.  “I appreciate it.”

Connor licked his lips and nodded, making his way back to the front counter.  Laurel grinned and gave him a thumbs-up. 

Bonnie, their shift supervisor, threw him a withered glare.  “Stop giving cute guys free drinks.  We’re not here to get you laid.” She pinned her nametag onto her apron, signaling the start of her shift.

“That’s why _I’m_ here,” Connor said, glancing over to see if Oliver heard, but his headphones were already over his ears again.  “Laurel, hand me a packet of jasmine.”  He grabbed a Sharpie out of the pen cup and scrawled his cell number on the white paper packet.  He filled a cup with hot water and returned to Oliver’s table, sliding the drink and packet across from Oliver’s computer.  “Enjoy,” he said, and winked before sidling back behind the counter.

Bonnie rolled her eyes.  Laurel smiled at him, ever supportive.

“Can I get some service here?” An impatient middle-aged woman tapped her acrylic nails on the counter.

“Can you get off my ass?” Connor retorted, saccharine-sweet.

“Connor,” Annalise warned from the back room, but Connor was too busy watching Oliver tuck the tea bag packet into his wallet, smiling that adorable, shy smile.


End file.
